The more the merrier? (Elliott/Harvey/Shane)

by MothmanMothmanMothman

Summary:

After a certain 6 heart event, Shane's life is (incredibly slowly) taking a turn for the better..! In fact, a certain doctor in his life wants to help. Harvey seems committed to helping Shane not self-destruct beyond the typical doctor patient dynamic. But like anything in Shane's life, it's never really that easy. From Elliott seemingly manifesting as obnoxious as ever in the centre of this messy healing bringing with him messier feelings to that maybe not the worst thing, Shane can't catch a break.

Chapter 1: Morning Remedies

A lot had changed for Shane since that night. He could barely remember that night itself ironically. Yet, now he had a counsellor from Zuzu city wanting to listen to his problems, of which he had a lot. And as it turned out, it was Doctor Harvey who set this up. Yes, that Doctor Harvey. The same one who was now asking to see Shane.

At first, he assumed it was some medical nonsense - that Harvey was being over concerned for Shane's health. However, the doctor didn't seem to be just concerned about his physical health.

Before his god-awful job at the JoJo Mart, he stopped at Harvey's clinic (long before opening time) and knocked. The early autumn mornings are cold and miserable - clouds shrouding the sky and casting a dull shadow over everything. With a fumbling of keys, the clinic door opens. There stood Harvey looking presentable as usual, albeit flustered (as usual). Shane adjusts his JoJo branded beanie, pulling it down to cover more of his face,

"Hey. You said I could come over for," he sighs, "coffee?"

Harvey's eyes light up; the weariness was wiped off his face immediately as he ushered Shane into the clinic towards an unfamiliar staircase.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't think you'd actually show up. Sorry for the mess."

Shane bristles; he supposes he's not quite changed folks' perspective on him though he figures he has no right to be so sensitive about it. Harvey doesn't even pick up on it in his fumble of sitting Shane down and darting to the coffee machine. Shane found himself in some cosy little sitting area, a small part of Harvey's small second floor.

Planes. Lots and lots of planes. Model aeroplanes are attached to the walls and ceiling above a desk with their numbers plenty. Delicately, they dangle to his left, appearing as a tribute to some hobby Shane would have never expected from his local doctor.

"Milk? Sugar?"

Shane was snapped out of his thoughts.

"Uh. Yeah. Sure."

Shane grunts and leans back on the soft cushions, but also to try to glance at Harvey in the open kItchen.

But, before Shane could get the sight he was looking for, Harvey could be heard hurrying back over. Harvey, breathing a bit too heavily, passes a hot mug of coffee over to Shane. His hands brush against Shane's as he takes extra caution to not drop the scalding hot liquid.

With a huff, Shane takes it. His throat felt dry. As he stared at the dark liquid, he reminded himself that it might not be the kick he needed right now, but it should help. He slowly brings the mug to his lips. Something was better than nothing.

Harvey watched over Shane intently, seeming almost giddy.

"So how have you been feeling, Shane? Counselling has been going well, right?"

Shane seemed almost weirded out by the questions. Sure, it was Doctor Harvey's job to care as a doctor, but outside of the sterile clinic, this felt more personal.

"Uhm. It's been alright. It's just been small talk so far."

"Good, good. The important thing is that you're talking. I'm glad you're doing well."

"Well?" Shane scoffs. Honestly, it was almost funny. He washes down the irony with a painful gulp of the hot coffee. Harvey exhales and gives Shane a gentle smile, trying to explain himself,

"Yes. Well. Well, better than before. You look better."

Shane nearly coughed out all the lava hot coffee in his mouth. Harvey's cheeks darken as Shane makes a coughing sound. Harvey leans closer, attempting to be of assistance, but Shane holds a hand out to keep him at bay.

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

Shane recovers, leaning back into the cushions and scowling at Harvey. The scowl had no malice behind it. In fact, Shane seemed embarrassed. Harvey slowly sips his own coffee, averting his gaze. Shane mutters,

"I can assure you I don't. I haven't changed anything. I..."

Shane trails off. Harvey remains quiet and listening. He was easy to talk to and even easier to rant at, a dangerous thing for Shane. He doesn't continue, swallowing down whatever words were on the tip of his tongue along with coffee.

"You don't have to check up on me, Harvey... I don't need monitoring."

"I'm aware that's none of my business, and I have no entitlement to anymore of your kind. But, I'm not talking to you as your doctor. I'm talking to you as your neighbour-"

Harvey pauses, suddenly doubting his own words.

"Uh, technically not neighbours, but you get the point. If you feel like it, please do come see me. I would like you to do the best you can, and if I can help, I certainly will."

He nods to himself, more sure of his words now more than ever.

How the hell did Shane get to this point? He lets out a deep exhale. He should be more appreciative. At this point, he really should be grovelling at Harvey's feet, but Shane was never good at showing appreciation. Even to his aunt Marnie, who'd given him so much, he could only muster a half-assed, "Thanks." It was pathetic. Yet here was Harvey, speaking genuinely and far more genuinely than Shane could ever muster. It should feel inspiring, but the warm feeling inside sank low, weighing down him to become again aware that he didn't deserve this.

Shane looked at his watch and, like clockwork, downed the rest of his coffee - its bitterness irritatingly lacked the relief of a beer, as in this case nothing was better for him than something. He stood up and grumbled,

"I've got to head to work."

Harvey's expression dropped, but he swiftly masks his disappointment with a small smile. Once the mug was out of Shane's hands, he didn't bother waiting to be walked out. Instead, he took himself out, the guilt and comfort which came at each sabotage aching comfortably inside.

Back under the blow of leaf snatching winds, Shane briskly walks to work, wondering to himself along the way if Harvey cared or just pitied him.

Chapter 2: Patience and Patients

Summary:

After Shane leaves, Harvey is left with dwelling thoughts and feelings he'd rather do without.

Though, being a Doctor comes with the benefits of never truly having time to oneself to think. So when Elliott, the town's very own cabin dwelling author walks in with a bit of a problem, Harvey's worries regarding Shane and his issues are momentarily forgotten in favour for his own issues– No, a patients issues. Obviously.

Harvey found himself deep in thought as he rinsed off the mugs. Did he come off as overbearing? Shane was still recovering, and the last thing Harvey would have wanted is for him to feel worse. But, he had no time to dwell on this. He needed to open the clinic.

Trying not to think too hard about it (and failing), Harvey placed the mugs on the kitchen's drying rack. Looking over his home one last time, he throws on his coat and walks out into the colder clinic.

Opening the clinic wasn't too hard at all. Afterall, Harvey liked to stay organised. It was a little lonely though as Maru wouldn't be working today, so it was just him, and whatever else decides to unfold.

On most days, it would be nothing. Harvey wasn't sure whether he should be proud that Pelican Town took its health so seriously or whether he should be concerned that people were avoiding the clinic. There were rarely the emergencies he'd trained dutifully to handle, and with the winter season approaching, accidents should be even rarer. Though Harvey can't help but mull over that; he can't help but doubt his own assessment. A lot of injuries can happen in winter and to anyone...

The chime of the clinic doors opening snapped Harvey out of his deep thought. As he snaps to attention, his patient shuffles over to the desk.

Harvey knew of everyone in Pelican Town. He's treated their injuries and checked on them annually. However, Harvey couldn't say he knew them all exceedingly well. Elliott was the perfect example of someone Harvey knew of but didn't truly know. After all, Elliott, compared to the others, hasnt been in Pelican Town for very long at all. The few annual check ups Harvey has practised on Elliott usually involved a lot of rambling - Elliott certainly was not shy especially with his hobbies (another thing to envy.) Harvey supposes that other than annual check ups, their circles haven't over lapped much at all, other than just seeing each other around. Though it was honestly hard to miss him.

Look at him. Harvey was immediately distracted by the long full head of well groomed ginger hair. They were around the same age, yet Harvey couldn't help but feel even older. It was a ridiculous but unrelenting feeling, and there was no escaping the small pangs of fleeting jealousy and admiration.

Harvey definitely thought Elliott was a good-looking man, and that thought alone made him flush.

In a quick attempt to brush that aside, Harvey recites like muscle memory,

"Good morning. How can I help you today?"

Elliott, strangely, seemed just as embarrassed as he cradles one hand in another. His cradled hand was wrapped in bandages. Sucking in his pride and looking aside, he declares,

"It seems I've had an accident... involving a crab."

Harvey adjusts his glasses, trying to remain professional despite his complicated feelings. A crab? For anyone else, he'd have to ask how this had happened. Elliott lived in that old cabin on the beach, so a crab accident seems a bit more likely.

"Oh, an accident? Can I see your hand?"

With a wince and perhaps exaggerated sigh, he begins to unwrap his hand. As he does, he explains unnecessarily,

"This sort of thing happens ever so often. Crabs in pockets, crabs in the furniture, and crabs outside my door. It's not an infestation. The little things have just as much right to be there as I. The beach and water are their homes, and I've intruded on one of them... Occasionally, both."

Elliott had a manner of speaking, which was almost reminiscent of reading aloud. Something about the patterns he used and his tones almost made him sound like a novel character. Harvey supposes it's a writers curse or whatnot - forced to overthink and over perform. For Elliott, it seemed almost normal in combination with the entirety of how he portrays himself. To talk like, let's say Shane, would be more strange.

"I see..."

Harvey follows along, though his eyes stay fixed on that hand. Sure enough, when the bandages are peeled away, he sees a bloodied puncture wound by Elliott's thumb. The wound itself was small, but the risk of infection proposed a great risk. Harvey leans forwards across the desk to get a closer look. Elliott continues, glancing over and taking in Harvey's expression,

"It happened earlier this morning. Poor thing was probably terrified of me. I'd tried to help it, but it pinched me quite painfully. And on my dominant hand no less! Unless I somehow learn to be ambidextrous, I can't continue my writing. How awful..."

Harvey's expression softens. The doctor couldn't help but feel sympathic to Elliott's woes - writing appeared to be Elliott's everything. Though, focusing back on the injury, as it was fresh, the signs of a possible infection would be nonexistent. Harvey slowly takes the wounded hand in his own.

"Has your hand been in contact with sea water?"

Elliott glances down at his hand, grimacing.

"No, of course not. That would hurt."

A straightforward answer. It must already hurt a lot. Harvey considers for a moment before letting go.

"Alright, Elliott... We'll clean that up and bandage it up properly."

Harvey lets go, meeting Elliott's eyes once more. He crumbles.

"If you would, uh, follow me into the other room, please..."

Elliott's glum expression finally lit up.

"Splendid. Lead the way, Doctor."

Harvey falters - few in the valley call him just Doctor. But, true to his word, Harvey leads Elliott into one of the rooms of the clinic. Without prompting, Elliott sits down on one of the beds. He seemed distracted, albeit momentarily from his wound and the consequence of being unable to write. Harvey once more tries to remain focused as he sorts through his equipment from a nearby cabinet.

Elliott looks around the clinic, soaking in the scenery as if trying to store it in his mind for a later date.

Harvey would say he's quite good at staying professional no matter how he feels for the subject. In these brief moments of silence, Harvey can't help but try to coach himself on composure. He usually doesn't get this bad, but he feels almost embarrassed to treat Elliott - embarrassed of his thoughts as he watched this man truly do nothing and still felt flustered.

Harvey moves closer again, definitely flushed as he worked to clean the wound. He could feel Elliott's hand tense in an attempt not to clench. He could feel Elliott suck in a sharp inhale in pain as he disinfected the cut. He could feel Elliott's gaze on him despite his turned head.

As he wrapped a bandage around it, he couldn't help but feel reluctant to pull away. Not for that reason! Truly. Instead, Harvey feared Elliott would notice how red he was.

But as he heard the chime of someone else entering the clinic, Harvey suppressed his embarrassment and stepped back. Instead of the anticipated jeering and teasing, Elliott stood up, focused on his flexing hand.

"It seems I really can't grip a quil or pen like this. I suppose I can afford a few days off."

Elliott looks up, not stopping to dwell on Harvey's flushed cheeks.

"Will antibiotics not be necessary, Doctor?"

Harvey shifts around, almost as if the room had grown even hotter.

"Ah, no. You did well to bring this in quickly. Though, if the area begins to itch or feel inflamed, please return."

Elliott preens and his perceived praise.

"Well, let me not take any more of your time."

Fixing his hair with his okay hand, Elliott gives Harvey a nod.

"Thank you for your service, Doctor."

With that, Elliott begins to leave. Taking a breath in louder than he meant, Harvey composed himself to check on the next patient.

Elliott strolls out, holding his bandaged hand up like it was a fashionable glove. He didn't seem embarrassed over the clinic visit anymore. Perhaps the bandage hid the reality of a crab accident, favouring a more exciting injury. Harvey could only speculate what Elliott was thinking.

He didn't seem obnoxious, not truly.

But when Harvey looked away from the now closing door, he saw Lewis, unfortunately.

Time to tend to the mayor.

Notes:

I'm curious.

I've just heard of the head cannon that Elliott is autistic and as someone with autism I can sort of see where they're coming from with his lack of social cues reading (heart event at the saloon) to him not making proper eye contact (in his sprite far fetched I know.)

Well, he definitely resonated with me for some reason, most likely due to his passion for writing, or an attitude that I've interpreted as escapism, or just being a fun character to talk to.

I'm just curious about what other people's take on this is.

Chapter 3: All that sparkles

Summary:

Making a change is a slow and tedious process, Shane knows that. Seeing Harvey that morning certainly helped, but old habits do die hard. So when Shane ends up back at the Stardrop Saloon, he can't help but feel all of this effort is futile, until an unexpected encounter unfolds...

Working at JoJo Mart was painful: the hours were a drag; the payment was minimal; and the breaks were few and far between. But, a job was better than no job for Shane. Though, the morning respite with Harvey seemed almost pointless as Shane fell back into his mind-numbing routine.

He hated it, but he hated being unable to repay Marnie more. Shane was a lot of things, but a freeloader wasn't one of them, and at least he had that going for him.

At last, when those long hours came to an end, Shane stood up straight and stretched. All those hours stocking shelves have done a number on his body. His back strains against his will to stand. Usually, he'd end up at the Stardrop Saloon, drinking to numb his aching limbs, and on days he didn't work, it was drinking for the sake of drinking.

Honestly, Shane hadn't even meant to find himself on his way to the saloon. Maybe it was muscle memory? Maybe it just happened to be on his route home? Either way, he couldn't help but feel ashamed to even stand in front of the welcoming saloon doors. And what made it even worse was the fact that Harvey's clinic was so close by, it was in view. Guilt churned in Shane though he couldn't work out who he was betraying more: himself, Jas, Marnie or Harvey.

Shane tried to comfort himself with the fact that being there wasn't inherently wrong. He had every right to be there. He just wouldn't drink.

But it was never that easy. Withdrawals were their own special type of hell, and where he wasn't drinking, he could count on the fact Pam was and watching that was hard enough.

He'd just be in the saloon for a little while. A little while, yeah...

Walking in, Shane always thought the saloon looked nice. And honestly, it always has. Gus took care of his space well. And as the usual faces busied themselves with beer, Shane couldn't help but realise the whole saloon reeked of it. Shane could've sworn it never did before, but maybe it did, and he never noticed.

With a sigh, Shane began to walk towards his usual corner of the saloon - a sad little space near the bar, but far enough from others. Glancing across the bar, he couldn't help but wonder whether Pam ever felt like he did; perhaps it wasn't the alcohol and maybe it was just him being weak? Or maybe she didn't feel much at all? She was working through those beers rapidly - demanding a "refill" until she slurred them beyond audibility. But Shane was in no place to judge or feel pity.

Gus definitely noticed the lack of immediate order from Shane but chose not to comment on it. If Shane's head wasn't feeling light, he'd appreciate it.

That's when Elliott walked in. Shane knew that guy, and honestly, he found him quite annoying. But if there was a good reason for that, Shane's head throbbed too much to recall it.

Elliott, with a bandage on one of his hands, strode confidently towards the bar ordering, of course, a beer.

Gus, as he goes about pouring one, eyes up the injured hand.

"How'd you manage that?"

Shane could've sworn he saw Elliott's confidence wavering, but with a swift recovery, Elliott sighed dramatically.

"I was on my way out of my cabin, headed to Pierre's to buy my weekly produce when I saw a crab tangled in some old net by the driftwood! Poor thing was all tangled up. I couldn't sit by and let it suffer. So I made a detour to go help it. And it pinched me!"

Shane couldn't help but snort, maybe a bit louder than he intended. Only this guy would get injured by attempting a crab rescue.

Elliott gasps, turning towards Shane and fixing him a glare that was more embarrassed than angry.

"And what would you have done, Shane?"

"I, uh..."

Shane couldn't think of anything witty to say, so with a shrug, he concedes.

"Nothing."

Elliott only seemed more riled up by that answer.

"How heartless! You-"

Gus, the voice of reason, speaks up,

"Please don't shout across the saloon."

Elliott turns back towards Gus, voice lowering to a more acceptable volume.

"I apologise."

Shane huffs - served that guy right. If there were more people in here, that might've been embarrassing... Wait. Why was Elliott now walking over?

Elliott stood right in front of Shane, almost blocking him in that corner. However, Shane wasn't concerned by that. No, he couldn't help but glance at the beer Elliott was holding. Shane tears his eyes away from the glass, attempting to distract himself from his drying throat.

"I didn't think you were confrontational."

Elliott puffed out his chest, seeming pleased that he'd exceeded Shane's expectations, or at least thought he did up until Shane grumbled.

"I guess you really are that ignorant."

Ignorant? That stung. Elliott declares.

"I am sober and quite aware of myself, thank you very much."

Shane winces. How could this guy be so grating?

"Keep your voice down for starters."

"I'm not even shouting!" Elliott retorts. He seemed to genuinely not realise his volume.

"Yeah, well, you're being loud."

There's a pause where the two just stared at each other - not angry but instead just frustrated. Elliott looks aside, taking a long sip of his beer; Shane's hands tense, the sight alone putting him in a worse mood.

Elliott concedes,

"I suppose I was. I apologise, Shane."

That anger seemed to start and end with the glass Elliott was holding. Maybe Shane was letting the alcohol bring out the worst in him again, ironic since he hadn't drank a drop. Shane mumbles,

"No, I'm sorry. I was rude."

Elliott didn't seem satisfied by that conclusion. He gives Shane a look of absolution,

"Allow me to buy you a drink-"

Shane couldn't even let Elliott finish. He lets out an almost panicked,

"No!"

Elliott seemed dumbfounded but steps back. Something was going on with Shane, more than usual, and Elliott was in no hurry to pry. Shane winced, trying to salvage the admittedly very tense and uncomfortable situation.

"I mean, you can, but not beer."

The confusion on Elliott's face stood out to Shane as if he couldn't understand or fathom why Shane wouldn't want to drink beer. And it was just then when why Shane truly felt slighted by Elliott began to shallow.

Elliott could get drunk, no, wasted at the jukebox, and that would be it. He never got the withdrawals. He only went to the saloon on occasions. He never let himself go. He didn't have a job he hated. He wasn't relying on someone just to get by. He didn't have someone looking up to him who he was constantly letting down. He-

"Very well..."

Elliott turned on his heels, marching right back towards Gus.

"Bartender. Bring me one fine water. And, ah, make it sparkling!"

Now Shane was left staring.

"Sparkling water? Seriously?"

Sheepishly, Elliott faces Shane. Maybe sparkling water wasn't the best call, but he was going to go with it!

"Yes, of course! Sparkling water. Why have normal water when it could be sparkling, right?"

Shane looks at Gus, who seemed to be going along with this request. He had no idea the saloon had sparkling water, though he couldn't imagine anyone in the valley who'd willingly drink the stuff... Maybe Emily.

Elliott forked over the money, receiving bubbling water. Shuffling around to use his good hand, Elliott passed the glass to Shane. Well, Shane was thirsty, so he might as well. To Elliott's relief, Shane tilts his head back and drinks. To Elliott's bafflement, Shane nearly finishes it in one go.

"Not too bad... Well, it's not as terrible as I thought."

Shane wasn't lying about that. The bubbles actually hit that craving for alcohol. It certainly didn't replace the familiar back of the throat burning sensation, but it was a close enough imitation.

Elliott seemed as surprised as Shane at his apparent enjoyment of the drink. He grins, proud of his good decision.

"Oh? Well, isn't that marvellous."

"Marvellous, sure..."

Shane looked down at his glass, swirling the liquid absentmindedly as he thought. Maybe Shane was too harsh on Elliott? He seemed harmless. Over dramatic and tiring to be around? Definitely. But he had good intentions, at least and paying for this drink has given him some leeway from Shane for now.

The two drank quietly. It was probably the quietest Shane has seen Elliott be. Though it would be hard to ramble whilst drinking. The silence was weirdly comfortable, the previous tension dissipating. Sure, Shane wasn't looking at Elliott, but that was mostly to avoid looking in Pam's direction.

Elliott let out a satisfied sigh as he finished his beer. He definitely seemed buzzed. Shane was acutely aware that Elliott was quite the lightweight with alcohol, but then again, with how much time he's spent at the saloon, it would be expected that he noticed these things. Yet, Elliott doesn't ask for a refill immediately. Instead, he begins making small talk. Shane honestly didn't pay much attention until that bandaged hand slightly nudges his shoulder, and Elliott asks a little too seriously.

"You didn't actually mean what you said about not bothering to help the crab, did you?"

Shane falters.

"Are you still bothered by that?"

"Well, yes. Do you hate crabs?"

Shane wasn't sure whether he should be amused or annoyed with how seriously Elliott was taking this hypothetical.

"No. I don't hate any animal. But, they're crabs."

"A crab that needed help!"

Shane noticed Elliott leaning a bit too close unintentionally - he was definitely feeling the effects of alcohol. Shane gently pushed Elliott back to stand independently.

"Well... uh," Shane took a moment to think, "If it has the pincers to hurt your hand, wouldn't it be able to, I dunno, use them to cut its way out of the net?"

Elliott goes to reject the idea immediately - to certify that this crab really needed his help and what he did was necessary - but the rejection doesn't make it out. Instead, he begins to very visibly ponder over what Shane said.

"I see your point there."

Elliott pauses.

"That's a very good point."

Shane shook his head, more amused than anything. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was embarrassment, but Elliott's face seemed flushed. It wasn't as obvious as Harvey's, but Shane could be quite observant (when he wanted to be.) On the topic of Harvey, Shane brings the doctor up - perhaps to swiftly sidestep Elliott's blunder.

"I take, uh, it that Harvey did the bandaging on your hand."

Elliott nods, trying not to dwell on his oversight.

"Yes, the doctor made quick work of my injury. He didn't even bat an eye when I told him the story."

Shane presses further.

"Did you mention that the crab was "stuck"?"

As Shane makes the gesture of air quotes with his hands, Elliott awkwardly runs his better hand through his hair.

"Ah... no? I actually don't remember. But I'm sure the doctor saw my accident as a by-product of a genuine attempt to help!"

Shane scoffs, though his gaze isn't unkind.

"I'm sure it was."

Elliott doubles down unnecessarily,

"In fact, the doctor probably saw the sacrifice in the action! That's my writing hand injured. I can't possibly resume working on my novel until I've recovered."

Now, Shane could've continued to dismiss Elliott's fumbling justifications or picked apart his excuses, but instead, he considers something else entirely.

"Why do you keep calling Harvey 'the doctor'? You know, he's not a stranger..."

Though Shane cringes at his own words. Maybe he's making his own feelings about Harvey too obvious? The idea of all of Pelican Town thinking he was getting special treatment from Harvey wasn't just a risk to Harvey's career but deeply humiliating for Shane.

Word travels around fast. He's certain most are aware of his stomach needing to be pumped after that night.

Elliott, on the other hand, replies quite a matter of factly,

"I know he's not a stranger. He's a doctor, and I'm referring to him as such. I'm showing respect, Shane."

Shane mumbles,

"I work at JoJo Mart, and you don't call me JoJo Mart employee."

"Would you like me to?"

Shane felt almost disgusted by the idea. He shuts that down quickly,

"No. And don't you even think about it."

Elliott looked almost smug as he chimed back playful chuckle,

"Very well, fine..."

Shane huffs, downing the rest of his sparkling water. Looking at Elliott, he definitely felt differently. Now, he certainly wasn't friends with Elliott, but he wasn't the worst.

Shane mulls over the fact that Elliott probably wouldn't have bothered talking to him if he was drunk as usual. That thought definitely weighed on him. He very well might be more approachable sober, though he didn't feel any better. Talking to Elliott wasn't so bad, and neither was sparkling water.

Elliott goes to take Shane's glass, though with his injured hand.

"Ugh."

Shane begrudgingly instead took Elliott's and placed it on Gus' bar to be cleaned.

Gus was staring at Shane, his look a mix of pride and intrigue. This definitely wasn't very typical of Shane. And lucky for him, it seemed everyone was, but Gus was too buzzed to really notice.

Elliott yawns. It was get quite late, but nowhere near the time Shane usually left. Still, Shane couldn't really fault Elliott - he looked like the sort who prioritised beauty sleep.

Shane shifts around awkwardly. He usually drank alone, and without a drink in his hand, he seemed especially lost on how to say goodnight. Fortunately, Elliott seemed quite comfortable doing all of the talking,

"I suppose this is it for me tonight. I best be off before it's too dark. I wouldn't want to fall into the ocean. Goodnight."

Elliott turns to leave, stalling noticeably, waiting for a reply. Shane mumbles,

"Yeah. Good... night."

That seemed to satisfy Elliott as he left without another word. Shane glanced around, making sure Gus didn't hear him. Gus seemed busy tending to a passed out Pam.

Shane grimaces - the light and fuzzy feeling in his chest being dragged down by the familiar sight. Better her than him, he supposes.

He wonders how he wants to spend the rest of the night. He weirdly wanted to confide in someone about this encounter before he went home, so he wouldn't think too far into it...

Maybe Harvey is still awake.

Notes:

Phew. This chapter was like double the length of the previous ones. If this becomes a trend in future chapters, I apologise. I guess working on this feels like way less of a hassle with this piece. Stardew Valley IS something I really enjoy, and so are its characters.

It's great to get back into a habit of writing (so if you're putting it off, here's your reminder to try to!)

Oh yeah, and the whole sparkling water thing is inspired from a Shane heart event (8 hearts, I think). Shane and Elliott are the furthest thing from each other so writing their dialogue was very fun. Hope you enjoyed it!

Notes:

The longest first instalment I've written on here. Can't remember who it was, but someone put the idea of Shane x Harvey x Elliott in my head. At first, I thought it was fine but wasn't too interested in it, but god damn have I changed my mind. I just can't help but feel they'd be good for each other (all 3 of them!) Besides, the more the merrier!

Elliott (the best character) will be featured in the next chapter.